


A Wind through the Reeds

by Maewn



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Gen, Link is Link but not, Past Lives, Talking Link
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maewn/pseuds/Maewn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many things Link shouldn’t remember. He knows this.</p>
<p>He shouldn’t remember a land swathed in green, the sound of rain through the leaves of many tall and sunlit trees, shouldn’t remember a deity tall and radiant in Her Glory. But he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Distant, Fragile Things

There are many things Link shouldn’t remember. He knows this.

He shouldn’t remember a land swathed in green, the sound of rain through the leaves of many tall and sunlit trees, shouldn’t remember a deity tall and radiant in Her Glory, a shield on Her arm and blue eyes alight with joy, he shouldn’t remember feeling proud and yet humble to serve at Her side.

He shouldn’t remember answering to another name, remember serving with bold, brave souls against a darkness that only grew stronger and more devious with each battle, he shouldn’t remember the feeling of steel through flesh, and the taste of blood in his mouth, and his vision darkening even as glorious brilliant light swept the battlefield, the Goddess wrathful and beautiful in Her rage and sorrow.

He shouldn’t remember how to wield a blade as if it were a mere extension of his being, how to shift his weight as he rolls in the sparring arena, how to balance out his stance when he wears a shield.

Fighting shouldn’t feel like second nature, not to a child of six-and-ten years.

But it does. His teachers praise him for how quickly he learns, his classmates less so. Zelda is a comfort, a friendly shoulder to lean on when the teasing gets a bit more pointed than it should be during their younger years.

But even she doesn’t know his burden.

As the years roll by, his dreams become nightmares, the vision of the darkness dragging Zelda down, the monster rising from its seal, the dreadful scream of its awakening ringing in his ears as he wakes.

He has found some solace in praying at the Goddess’s temple, asking for strength and protection. On nights when the nightmares keep him awake, he sneaks from the dormitory and avoiding the guards, finds a space under one of the trees near the statue of the Goddess. He doesn’t sleep but finds some part of his spirit soothed nonetheless.

* * *

 

The day of the Wing Ceremony dawns and Link is awoken by Zelda’s Loftwing shoving its head through his window and spitting a letter at him. He can’t say it’s entirely unexpected. Zelda always did have a _particular_ brand of humor.

So the push off the platform near the temple isn’t a surprise either. His missing Loftwing is.

Link can feel the faint emotions of the red Loftwing, rage and indignation flowing through their bond. He sends calm and reassurance back before following the trail leading below Skyloft.

The Loftwing squawks loudly when she sees him. _How dare they put me in a cage!_ She seems to say. _And how dare you take so long to get me!_

Link pats her wide bill, getting the tips of his fingers nipped for the gesture of support. The Loftwing is not pleased, though she will carry him without complaint; she’s not angry at him after all.

She is far less kind to Groose when she sees him.

Instructor Owlan raises an eyebrow as Link calmly watches Groose avoid the red Loftwing’s angry pecking.

“Link…” the instructor starts.

“He deserves it,” Link says placidly. “He trapped her in a cave this morning.”

“Ah,” the instructor replies. It is an unspoken rule amongst those in Skyloft that the Loftwings are not to be touched by those who are not bonded to them. Groose and his cronies will receive little sympathy from anyone who hears of what has transpired.

Owlan lets the Loftwing chase Groose for a few more minutes before giving a sharp piercing whistle. The Loftwing pauses, turning her head to glare before stalking back to Link’s side. She nudges his shoulder, a low grumble rumbling in her throat.

Link buries one hand in her bright feathers, scratching just under her bill. She makes a kind of purr before settling her head atop his.

“Students!” Owlan calls and all present snap to attention. “Today is the Wing Ceremony, in which you demonstrate your skill and bond with your Loftwing in a race to claim this,” he holds up a weathered yet still brightly colored statuette of a Loftwing braced to take flight. “The student who claims the statuette will advance to the next class on the path to knighthood. They will also receive a gift from the young woman chosen to represent the Goddess in this year’s ritual.”

Zelda waves, smiling.

“Let’s see your finest flying out there,” Owlan continues, “Show us just how hard you’ve been practicing. I want to see good, clean flying. Anyone caught interfering with other riders will answer to me.” The instructor’s eyes narrow as he looks the students over.

“That goes double for you, Groose,” the headmaster Gaepora snaps. Groose jumps at the man’s tone. Link hides a smile behind one hand as Owlan’s yellow Loftwing takes flight, the statuette secured to one leg by a length of rope. It circles once then begins to head northwards.

“Line up!” Owlan calls.

Link’s Loftwing squawks and takes a running leap off the platform while Link makes his way to the end of the line.

“Three, two, one. Begin!”

Link easily avoids Groose’s elbow jab, sprinting to the edge of the platform.

The wind streams over him, cool and welcoming as he free-falls into the sky.


	2. Drifting clouds of dreams

Link watches the yellow Loftwing fly away, free of its duty. The carving and its attached rope rest in his hands; he’s won the race.

“INCOMING!”

Link raises his head in time to see Zelda hurtling towards him, having leapt from her own Loftwing.

He spares a moment for a curse and shoves the newly-won statuette into his tunic, arms outstretched to catch the blonde menace who is his childhood friend.

His Loftwing staggers as Zelda lands, but manages to stay airborne.

“Thank you!” Zelda says cheerfully as if she didn’t just risk her safety by jumping onto another Loftwing unexpectedly.

“What if I hadn’t caught you?” he chides, heart pounding in his chest.

“I would have whistled for my Loftwing of course,” she says. “I knew you’d catch me. You always do.”

He sighs. “You’re going to give me grey hairs before I’m twenty, I just know it.”

“It’ll make you look distinguished,” she says, grinning.

He laughs.

“Congratulations on winning the race,” Zelda says.

“Thanks,” Link replies, guiding his Loftwing back towards the Temple of the Goddess. The end of the ceremony will take place atop the statue of Hylia, above her clasped hands.

Link remembers bright blue eyes and Her radiance pouring over the battlefield. There is an odd pang in his chest when he thinks of Her smile and gentle hand resting on his blade as She blessed it before battle as She did with all Her soldiers.

“Link?”

“Hmm?” he says.

“Do you ever dream of the surface?” Zelda asks. “What it might be like?”

He hesitates, wondering if she too remembers a time before the people they are now. If she remembers a different life, one that ended in darkness and blood on a scorched and blackened battlefield.

“Sometimes,” he says quietly.

“I hope that one day we can explore what is down there,” Zelda says. “Imagine, there could be something amazing waiting for us, just beneath the clouds!”

“We’d have to find a way through the clouds first,” Link replies as his Loftwing hovers beside the Goddess’s statue.

Zelda smiles. “I’m sure we’ll find some way there. Now, let’s finish the ceremony!”

She hops off the Loftwing onto the hands of the stone Goddess. Link follows her, removing the statuette as he goes.

“Link, hand me the statuette,” Zelda says. “I will offer it to the Goddess.”

Link complies, watching as she tucks it into a small alcove, barely a hand’s width, turning the statuette so it faces outwards. Then, withdrawing a harp from her satchel, Zelda begins to play a song that strikes a chord in his memory.

 _The Ballad of the Goddess_. Link remembers that a priestess had created it, played it before Her Grace with almost frozen fingers, so in awe of the Goddess was she. The Goddess had only smiled, blessing the woman with a soft touch of Her hand.

Zelda plucks the last few notes and tucking the harp away once more, turns to him, her hand outstretched.

In this moment, she is the Goddess personified, a representation of a deity who watches from the edge of time itself. He kneels, placing his hand in hers and bows his head.

 _“Great goddess, guiding light and protector of our people, grant us your blessing and mercy as I act in your stead during this ceremony,”_ Zelda intones. _“Valiant youth who grasped victory at the celebration of the bird folk, in accordance with the old ways, I now bestow the blessings of the goddess upon you.”_

There is a rustle of fabric and when Link looks up, Zelda is holding out a bundle of cloth.

“ _The blessings of the goddess drift down from the heavens aloft a sail, which I now pass to you,”_ she says.

He takes it from her hands, the fabric light and almost delicate, though he’s sure it will weather much before it begins to fray and tear.

“You know,” Zelda says, “they say that the goddess gave the Sailcloth to her chosen hero long ago.”

He remembers it. A cloth that glowed with Her light, spun from Her very Will, offering Her protection to soldiers. There had been many cloths like it. Although it had been closer to a tunic than what he held now. It had shielded him from many an arrow, blocking what would have been fatal hits. But the darkness had found a way around even the divine protection She had sought to give to Her people…

“Of course, the one you’re holding isn’t the same one,” Zelda says cheerfully. “I’ve been working hard to finish it in time for the ceremony.” She pauses. “I’m really glad I got to give it to you. Take good care of it, alright?”

“I will,” he promises.

“Now, there’s one last part to the ceremony,” she says, a mischievous glint in her bright eyes. She spins him around and points down to the ground where the rounded design in the stone glitters in the afternoon sun.

“You just have to land right in the middle of the circle there, using the Sailcloth to slow the fall,” Zelda says. “Ready?”

Link peers over the edge of the statue. “That’s a long way down, Zel.”

“Yes, it is!” she agrees and pushes him off.


	3. Inevitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liberal headcanon time! I'm adding in a few things that are not really addressed in-game as well as new scenes. I'm not sure how much of the dungeon delving I want to go into but we'll see where the road takes us. There might be a few short Zelda-focused segments ahead. Comments are appreciated.

The stone rushing up to meet him should be terrifying. Link doesn’t find it so. It’s just like jumping for one’s Loftwing. Not scary at all.

He times it carefully, and lands neatly in the center of the circle, the Sailcloth slowing his descent enough that he doesn’t break a bone upon landing. He folds the cloth and tucks it away.

Zelda’s Loftwing lands beside the circle and Zelda herself dismounts, grinning.

“I knew you could do it!” she cheers. “That was perfect!”

Link smiles. “I try.”

Link’s Loftwing drops to the ground behind him, pride thrumming through their bond.

“You know,” Zelda says, “we should do something to celebrate!”

“Like what?”

“The Lumpy Pumpkin? My treat,” Zelda offers.

“Sounds good to me,” Link replies. The Lumpkin Pumpkin is well-known for its soup and rich deserts. And honestly, it’s the best food he’s tasted. In both of his lives.

“Awesome,” Zelda says, “Come on, I’ll race you!”

“Didn’t you get enough racing earlier today?” he asks, swinging up onto his Loftwing’s back as Zelda does the same.

“Nope!” she says. “Ready, set, go!”

* * *

 

Link leans back from the table, mug of pumpkin juice in hand.

Across the table, Zelda is happily devouring her third piece of pumpkin chocolate pie.

“Enjoying the pie?” Link asks, smiling.

“Yes,” Zelda manages to say around her fork.

“One wonders how many recipes for pumpkin they’ve used,” Link says.

“Well, they’ve had a few hundred years to refine everything,” Zelda points out. “See what works, what doesn’t. I can’t imagine pumpkin and lettuce stew would have gone over well.”

Link shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe people liked it back then.”

Zelda places another piece of pie on her plate. “Maybe. One thing’s for sure, they know how to make good pie.” She takes a large bite, smiling.

“This is true,” Link agrees. Glancing through a nearby window, he can see his Loftwing gnawing on a pumpkin, eyes closed in content as it chews. The crimson Loftwing greedily tucks into another pumpkin, making short work of the round fruit.

Thankfully, the Loftwings are in an area filled with pumpkins that haven’t made the cut and are waiting to be turned into compost for the gardens around the pub. No one will miss a few pumpkins.

Zelda’s Loftwing is taking a nap, head tucked under one purple wing.

“I’m glad you won the race and not someone else,” Zelda says quietly, laying her fork aside. “I know you goof off sometimes but you’re dedicated to your work and you deserve recognition for that.”

“Thanks, Zel,” Link says, blushing despite himself.

“I think Instructor Owlan was going to talk to Groose after the ceremony, what with that dirty bit of cheating.”

“The egg throwing was annoying,” Link says. “They must have been planning that as a back-up in case I got my Loftwing free. Else they wouldn’t have had the eggs with them.”

“They need to grow up,” Zelda says with a sigh of irritation. “I think this might be the wake-up call they need. The penalties for interfering with a sanctioned race are pretty high. I don’t think they knew that when they started planning or otherwise they would have not gone through with it.”

Link snorts. “They would have found some other way to sabotage the race, believe me.”

Zelda scowls, jabbing at the remainder of her pie with her fork. It rather reminds Link of the expression one of his soldiers had at mealtimes when faced with whatever the cook had concocted for the day’s meal. A misdirected kind of anger.

“Stabbing the pie won’t give Groose the kick in the pants he needs,” Link says placidly. “Although if that were a thing, I’m sure someone else would have done that by now…maybe Fledge? I think he’s wanted to get back at Groose for a while.”

Zelda blinks, staring at him and then bursts into laughter. Link grins, chuckling. Zelda’s laugh is infectious. She’s a bright ray of sunshine, as cliché as that sounds, bringing happiness and joy with her.

The rest of the pub swivels to look at the two teens briefly before returning to their own conversations.

“…Fledge…just running up….and kicking him…” Zelda says through giggles. “That’s great!”

“Seriously, that kid’s got a mean kick in the practice yard,” Link says, taking a drink from his mug. “He’s got a good head for strategy too. I’ve heard his parents want to ship him off to the Emeralds.”

The Emeralds were a collection of eight islands to the west, specializing in reconnaissance and tracking. It was about a day’s flight to reach the closest one and nearly three days to get to the last one.

“It’d be a change for sure,” Zelda says. “I like Skyloft because it’s so open.”

Link nods. Skyloft holds the Goddess’s temple. Nowhere else feels quite like home than there.

Zelda finishes her pie. “Ready to head back?”

Link swallows the last of his juice and sets his mug down.

Zelda drops a silver rupee on the table. “Keep the change!” she calls.

“Thank you and come again!” the waitress, Kina, says cheerfully.

The sun is shining brightly as they exit and Link’s Loftwing squawks a greeting. Zelda’s Loftwing blinks blearily, raising its head and yawning.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Zelda says, patting the bird’s head affectionately. It chirps, nudging her hair.

“Back to the Academy then?” Link asks, swinging up onto his Loftwing’s back.

“Yep,” Zelda says, mounting her Loftwing.

 They’re almost to Skyloft when the air shifts, currents disrupted from their usual courses.

“What on earth is this?!” Zelda yells, fighting to keep her Loftwing from being dragged down.

Link swears viciously; he knows that hint of malice that rides on the wind, the darkness that has finally wormed its way into the sanctuary the Goddess had created for Her people.

A black tornado rises from the cloud layer, winds tugging and pulling them in.

Zelda screams as her Loftwing is pulled down, the bird shrieking when the tornado wrenches its left wing and with a sickening crack both bird and rider drop from the sky.

Link dives, reaching for Zelda. His fingers brush hers. The darkness surges, winds lashing out, the growing demonic aura dragging like barbs across Link’s skin. It knocks him back, wrenches Zelda’s hand from his and hurtles him into oblivion.


	4. Interlude: Zelda

She wakes. Cool grass beneath her head, sun warm against her face. There is no pain.

_Where am I? How did I get here?_ she wonders.

Images flash through her mind and she sits up with a gasp. _Link_. _Is he alright? Is he injured? Where is he?!_

The last thing she remembers is the strange tornado flinging her and Link about like ragdolls and her Loftwing’s wing breaking. Her Loftwing! Is she okay?! Did she fall as well?

Zelda reaches along the connection each rider shares with their Loftwing, finding only clouded pain and exhaustion. The emotions are faint as if their bond is stretched thin by distance.

There is a flicker of happiness upon seeing a familiar friend along with the irritation of being confined to the Loftwing hospital. The happiness that Zelda’s Loftwing always feels when seeing Link’s red-feathered terror of a bird makes Zelda smile. The irritation of about the confinement means little if the bird is being treated and allowed to heal.

Zelda lets a sigh of relief escape her. Her Loftwing is safe, injured but _safe_ and healing. And if Link’s Loftwing is there, Link would be not far behind. Her bird is in good hands.

Reassured by this, she looks herself over. No injuries, though her clothes are ripped almost to shreds. She frowns because she definitely should have hurt something given how far she…fell…

It is then that she sees unfamiliar trees, weathered stone and _tiny birds_. Could this be the Surface…?

She stands; she needs to find a way back to Skyloft, back to her family. She stumbles towards the nearby structure of what looks to be a temple. Perhaps, she will find some answers there.


	5. Bending, but not breaking

There is darkness roiling in his blood. It burns, scraping through his veins, clawing its way to his heart. He screams, praying to the Goddess to please, _please_ make it stop, make it _stop_.

He begs, almost sobbing as the burning seems to increase a thousand-fold, until all he can think of is _pain._

 _Sleep._ A soft voice commands and he barely hears the order, so consumed by anguish is he. _Sleep._ The voice commands again and somehow he does, pain wiped away like blood from a wound as warm light cradles him close.

* * *

 

_He dreams of battles won and lost, of comrades slain and darkness growing ever stronger. He dreams of the Goddess, Holy and beautiful._

_“Take My hand, Hyruen,” the Goddess murmurs. Her eyes are bright, so much so that they glow in the shade of the tree where She sits, Her sword and shield gleaming in the dim daylight beside Her. The air smells like rain, the grass damp from the storm that still rumbles in the distance._

_The woods are silent and unearthly still, a mass of green against a darkening grey sky._

_The army rests on the hill beyond, white tents stretching out to fill the horizon. He can hear the faint sound of weapons being sharpened, shields being re-shaped. ~~~~_

_The fair Goddess smiles, gentle and kind. He kneels beside Her, bowing his head._

_He rests his hand in Hers, the barest touch of fingers in Her Holy palm._

_“They grow ever stronger with each battle, Most Holy,” he says softly._

_“Sit, Hyruen,” She says. He complies, keeping his head bowed._

_“We will outlast them,” She says, and Her fingers curl tight around his. “We will outlast even the strongest of the darkness. One day We will see the end of this conflict.”_

_“It is hard to think of this war ever ending, Most Holy,” he says. “There are so many of them, and we’ve just-” he breaks off. He’s lost so many good soldiers…_

_“It will end, Hyruen, I promise. You will see it done,” the Goddess says and he feels the faintest brush of Her lips against his forehead, warmth flooding through him. A blessing._

_He wakes._

* * *

 

Link opens his eyes to see wooden ceiling beams and gentle afternoon sunlight gleaming over potion bottles.

He is in the infirmary. The chair beside him is occupied by Headmaster Gaepora who is quietly snoring. His brow is furrowed with worry even as he snoozes.

Link breathes in slowly, grateful for the lack of pain. There is a faint twinge in his ribs as he sits up but that is all. The feeling of darkness boiling in his blood is gone.

He carefully peels back his tunic. There is a long reddened wound that runs from the top right of his collarbone diagonally across his chest down to the top of his left hip. It will scar. That much Link knows. Wounds from darkness, such as this, scar the victim, _if_ they survive.

Creatures of Hylia’s make are vulnerable to the darkness. It eats at them and will change them into corrupted versions of themselves, a condition curable only by death. Shallow wounds are easily purified, while deeper wounds take more time and power to purify.

Link knows he is lucky.

_But was Zelda?_

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He wobbles as he stands. He has to find out what happened to Zelda.

He sees a green tunic nearby and carefully pulls it on. There is sudden movement behind him and he reaches for a sword he no longer carries before realizing that there is no threat.

“You’re awake,” the Headmaster says quietly, moving towards him. “When your Loftwing carried you back unconscious and injured, we feared the worst. We all saw that black tornado appear out of nowhere. I fear that was no ordinary storm.”

“Both Zelda and I were caught in it,” Link says, looking about for his boots and spotting them at the foot of the bed. He grabs them and tugs them on. “It broke her Loftwing’s wing and they fell. I almost caught Zelda but the storm…knocked me unconscious before I could grab her and threw me from my Loftwing.”

Gaepora nodded, his brow furrowing further. “Your Loftwing is unhurt, save for a few missing feathers. We found Zelda’s Loftwing on an island near where the tornado appeared. She’s being treated for her broken wing at the Loftwing infirmary. It’s possible Zelda made it to one of the lower islands.”

There were several small clusters of islands nearer to the cloud layer, two of which were relatively close to Skyloft.

“How long was I unconscious?” Link asks. Time was critical if Zelda had been injured as he had.

“A while,” Gaepora says. “It’s been four days since the Wing Ceremony.”

“And you haven’t found her?” Link says, fear creeping through his veins.

Gaepora shakes his head. “Not yet. We’ve had difficulty reaching the lower isles. The storm stirred up the cloud layer something terrible. No one’s been able to get down there to search.”

“Then I’ll go look myself,” Link says.

“No,” Gaepora says firmly, placing a large hand on Link’s shoulder. “You’ve just woken up and you were injured pretty badly. The fact that you can move around is nothing short of a miracle. You need to rest.”

“I need to find Zelda!” Link hisses. “If she was hurt the same way I was, she _needs_ medical attention as soon as possible!”

“And you can give her that?” Gaepora asks pointedly. “The healers worked day and night on you and your condition only improved after nearly three days of almost nonstop work. They are the ones who can treat Zelda. Unless you’ve over twenty years’ worth of knowledge of healing?”

“I do not,” Link admits. He is a warrior, not a healer. Cuts and bruises he could deal with, but the darkness? He has no holy power or amulets by which to purify dark wounds.

“Then rest, Link. Our searchers will find Zelda,” Gaepora says. “The Goddess will keep her safe, I know it.”

Link watches him leave and shut the door behind him, hearing the lock _snick_ as Gaepora makes sure he’s not going anywhere.

Link allows himself a small smile; after all, who ever said he had to use the door to get out? The window is large enough to get through. He sees Gaepora walk past, heading down the path on the western side of Skyloft. He waits until the man is out of sight before opening the window.

He reaches out along the bond with his Loftwing, conveying his escape from the confines of the infirmary. There is a thrum of gleeful mischief through their bond. He catches the sense of the wind through her feathers and the swooping feel of a dive as he eases carefully out the window.

Luckily, the infirmary is on the ground floor, so it is only a short drop to the ground.

His Loftwing lands and greets him, cawing happily and nipping his hair. He scratches her head, resulting in a purr. Link smiles, wrapping his arms around her neck, ignoring the twinge of pain in his ribs. His Loftwing rests her head against his back. Link can hear her heartbeat, warm and comforting.

He buries one hand into her bright feathers. _At least she is safe._

He murmurs a quiet prayer to the Goddess, asking for Zelda’s safe return and shielding from harm.

Link hums a soft song to the bird, who chirps and nudges his head with her bill. The song is old, older than Skyloft, the language of what Skyloftians called the Surface. Link remembers singing it to one of his lieutenant’s children when they had visited the army’ camp. A little boy with dark red hair and chubby arms and pale eyes.

He also remembers singing it to a friend as he lay dying, pierced by a lance through the side. The soldier had been heavy in his arms, green eyes clouded with pain, the darkness gnawing at him.

Link sighs, leaning against his Loftwing. He can see some of his soldiers’ features in the men and women of Skyloft. Pipit’s family is descended from Link’s second-in-command, Sara. Her brown eyes, sharp chin and proud stance echoed in Pipit and his kin.

It was odd, seeing some of his previous life’s comrades mirrored in their descendants when he himself still lived and breathed. The records of Skyloft indicated much of the surviving army had moved to the Emeralds to the west after the ascension from the Surface, though a quarter of that number had left to establish the Opals in the north a decade later. A few soldiers and their families had stayed in Skyloft. And of those only Sara’s line still survived in Skyloft today…  

His Loftwing chirps, as if to say, _I am here. You are not alone._

He smiles, drawing back and stroking the sides of her face, scratching just under her left eye. She tilts her head, pressing into the touch of her rider. “ _I know I am not alone,”_ he says, the ancient language of the Surface coming easily to his lips. “ _You carry my spirit with you and I yours.”_

The Loftwing purrs, nudging her bill at his chest.

 _“My heart? It is mine to give to who I will,”_ Link tells her. _“Though it belongs to Her always.”_

The Loftwing chirps again, the edge of her bill brushing his forehead.

Link looks up to the temple where the Goddess’s statue watches over all. He should offer prayers there. It’s also one of the better spots to see much of the cloud layer.

He eases up onto his Loftwing’s back. “Let’s go to the temple.”

His Loftwing gives a sharp caw and lifts off.


	6. What comes creeping through the Twilight?

The temple is quiet, the twilight settling over Skyloft like a star-studded veil.

Link offers his prayers in the sweet, ancient words. The familiar cadence of the chants soothes his soul and draws old memories to the forefront of his mind.

He burns the traditional flowers and hopes they carry his prayers to the Goddess at the edge of time. He wonders why She gave him new life, when the Demon King had been sealed at the end of that last battle.

They had finished what they had set out to do: seal the Demon King forever. Why was he reborn? Had She wanted to give him a life free of war? Why then was he born so late, when darkness was rising once more?

Why did She not combat the darkness now as She had done as Protector of the realm of the Old Gods? Could She not protect Her People? Would She abandon them? Had something prevented Her from protecting them?

He frowns, rising and looking out over the cloud layer. The clouds are a thick blanket that clutches at the edge of Skyloft, far closer than normal. They obscure the lowest parts of the island, clinging like creeper vines.

It sends an odd shiver down his spine and he whistles sharply for his Loftwing. It is strange; Skyloft at night has never made him uneasy. He reaches for the small dagger he has always kept in his left boot and draws it.

His Loftwing lands with a soft thump beside him, every feather on her crest fanned out as she turns to face the entrance to the temple yard, her yellow eyes bright and predatory. She hisses lowly, her wings rising, blotting out the light of the slowly ascending moon.

A swarm of Keese appears out of the darkening night, their shrieks loud in the stillness.

Link slashes through three, pivoting and taking out two more diving from the left. His Loftwing screams, her claws raking the cloud of descending Keese.

Link ducks to avoid being knocked over by his Loftwing’s wide wings and hisses curses at the creatures who dare to sully sacred ground. He can feel it, darkness emanating from the Keese, and his injury burns with sudden pain.

_How did they get up here? Had they been corrupted by the black tornado?_

Link cuts down four Keese, sending them tumbling to the ground, killing two more before the night falls silent again. Small bodies scatter the ground, corrupted blood sizzling as the droplets hit the earth. Link’s Loftwing nudges his shoulder, giving a low caw.

She taps her claws against a dead Keese, then sweeps her leg out to point towards the edge of the island.

“Dump them?” Link asks. The Loftwing bobs her head, rolling one corpse over the edge with a sharp kick.

Link wrinkles his nose. He doesn’t want to touch the corrupted corpses but they need to be removed from sacred ground. They shouldn’t remain here.

He picks up as many as he can carry, careful not to get any of the blood on his hands and dumps them over the edge. There are no islands below where they will land, and patrols don’t dive down that far at night, so no patrolling guard will get hit with a dead Keese unexpectedly.

One more trip and the ground is clear of corpses.

Link cleans his dagger on a piece of scrap cloth from his pocket, wincing slightly at the smear of dark blood on the pale cloth as he tucks the blade carefully into his belt. He wants a weapon close at hand for now. He’s not sure if anything else will attack them, but it never hurt to be prepared.

His Loftwing waves a leg at him, giving a low caw. Link grimaces at her gore-streaked talons, but moves swiftly towards her. The corrupted blood of creatures could cause harm, even after death. Link winces as he remembers how the army had found _that_ out. A faint hissing sound comes from the cloth even as he begins to work on the Loftwing’s claws.   

The Loftwing patiently keeps her right leg raised while he wipes her talons clean before lowering it and raising the left leg. The blood is definitely hissing now, sizzling against the fabric, grey smoke rising as Link finishes cleaning the last gore-streaked talon. Link quickly drops the smoking cloth over the edge of the island and it bursts into flames just as it leaves his grasp.

The Loftwing gives a startled squawk that drops into a threatening hiss. Link turns to soothe her and finds blank blue diamond-shaped eyes watching him, a strange creature floating just beyond the edge of the rounded design before the statue of the Goddess.

The creature’s appearance is somehow familiar; he’s seen something like it before… a black diamond set against midnight black skin and sharp white eyes flashes through his mind. He slides back into a ready stance.

“What do you want?” he asks, keeping his eyes on it.

The teardrop shaped head tilts, arms fluttering at its sides. Is it a spirit? A demon? Something else entirely?

It cannot be a demon; he can feel no aura of malice from the slender, feminine form that hovers an inch above the ground.

His Loftwing hisses again, tensing as if to pounce. The figure makes a low hum and floats away towards the Goddess’s statue. It pauses at the great stone feet where the emblem of Skyloft’s guardian birds shimmers into view and then fades.

A stone door slides back, revealing a dark passageway. The creature hums again, fluttering arms gesturing to the passageway.

The meaning is clear. Link’s Loftwing caws at the figure who responds with a low, sweet chime.

The bird is not soothed, cawing louder and raising her wings. Link steps around her, resting one hand against her neck.

“You want me to follow you?” he addresses the figure.

Another hum, sweet and warm, like harp music. _Yes. No harm shall come to you, Hyruen of the Surface._ A quiet voice says, the soft chimes and thrums now somehow understandable. _For you are blessed by Her Grace, the Goddess, She who stands at the edge of time, and it is She who has sent me to you._

Link stares at the figure. It knows his name, a name he has not been called in centuries. “How do I know you are telling the truth?” he asks.

_The Goddess sent me, Hyruen of the Surface. You died on the battlefield and in Her infinite kindness She gave you life once more. She bade me find you, for you still have a part to play in the grand design of the Old Gods. I would not lie about a mission of such importance._

“What do you mean?” Link asks. “We defeated the demon King. He is sealed forever; the Goddess saw it done.”

He remembers it, the demon king collapsed at the Goddess’s feet, Her shining blade raised high and the Holy seal spreading across the blackened earth. He had felt such fierce joy at the sight…

The figure tilts its head. _The demon king is sealed, yes. But his servants seek ever to break the Holy seal. They wish to resurrect their master._

“The Goddess’s power is absolute,” Links hisses, shoving the tiny kernel of doubt in his mind back. “She will prevent them from succeeding. Her Seal will hold.”

The figure’s arms flutter and it turns back to the dark passage. _The Goddess needs your aid, Hyruen of the Surface. Once you led Her army, now you must guide the honorable Zelda in fulfilling her role in the Old Gods’ design._

“Zelda’s alive?” Link gasps. “Is she hurt? Where is she?”

 _The honorable Zelda is safe._ The figure says. _She travels the land below, uninjured from her fall to the Surface. She will need your help to fulfill her destiny. Come. Time is of the essence._

Link watches the figure glide into the passage and vanish. His Loftwing caws, butting her head against his shoulder. There is a sense of worry through their bond. Link strokes her head.

 _Zelda is uninjured._ The news is relieving. But if she was on the Surface, harm could come to her. Link makes his decision.

“I’ll be alright,” he tells his Loftwing. “Go get Headmaster Gaepora. I think he’ll want to hear some good news.”

The Loftwing chirps, ruffling his hair with her beak. _Caution_ , her bright eyes seem to say.

“I’ll be careful,” he assures her. “Go get Gaepora, quickly.”

She hesitates a moment longer and takes off, the wind from her wings causing the leaves in the nearby trees to rustle.

Link sees her circle once around the statue, then head west. He walks to the mouth of the passage and steps inside.


	7. Night of secrets unfolding

Link walks quickly through the darkness of the passageway. The strange figure's willowy form floats ahead, a faint blue glow that guides him deeper.

That blue glow is soon overshadowed by the warm and impossible _sunlight_ that spills from a large doorway. It reminds him briefly of peaceful days in between campaigns, resting beneath wide oak trees and watching clouds drift over blue skies. The sweet scent of sun-dew flowers fills the room.

Link smiles despite the situation; the Goddess has always loved sun-dew flowers. Her banner and shield both bore the flower's flared golden petals. It was fitting that Her temple should be perfumed with the scent.

 _After Skyloft ascended and the Demon king was defeated, the Goddess sent Her remaining people above the clouds. And enshrined Her sacred blade here._ The creature says, moving to the side, allowing Link to glimpse the room in its entirety.

A high domed ceiling rises above him, framed by strong arches. A rounded glass window rests at the top of the ceiling, the panels expertly designed so as to resemble a lotus in full bloom; sunlight pours from there and Link has to remind himself that it is still night outside, it looks so real. Ancient Hylian script lines the walls, a carving of the Goddess standing out on the far wall above a stone altar. In the midst of the room a sword stands embedded in a small pedestal, glowing with Holy light.

Link can feel Her presence, or a wisp of it, here below the Goddess's statue.

He closes his eyes, recalling the dream.

 _It will end, Hyruen, I promise. You will see it done._ Her words echo in his mind, blue eyes bright and otherworldly. She still has a task for him. And he never was one to let Her down.

"What are you?" he asks, opening his eyes and turning to the creature.

_I am the sword's keeper. I am its spirit. I am Fidelis. Faithfulness. Fi, if you prefer._

"A sword spirit?" Link asks.

 _Yes._ Fidelis says.

"I saw something similar in form to you when battling the demon king's forces," Link says, remembering a shriek of rage and white-hot pain in his chest.

Fidelis nods. "Sword spirits share similar traits. No doubt you saw one of my brethren sworn to the demon king's service."

Link pauses, the spirit's words still hold the sound of chimes, clear and musical but they are somehow more solid now, more real and earthy. The sword spirit speaks impeccable Ancient Surfacian, her inflections indicative of the northern Eldin regions of the world below the cloud layer. Link himself speaks it with an eastern accent; Hyruen was born near Lake Floria, in a small village just a few miles south of the lake's farthest edge.

"One of them…killed me," he says haltingly, answering the spirit in the same tongue, a knot tight in his chest. He hadn't realized how much he missed hearing it spoken in a voice other than his own.

Fidelis tilts its head. "So they did," the spirit says, nodding, "The Goddess gave you rebirth for a reason, Hyruen. Take up Her blade and seek out the sky maiden named Zelda and help her to fulfill her destiny."

Link steps up to the sword, hesitantly resting his hands on the pale hilt. It seems almost sacrilegious for him to wield the Goddess's sword. It's Holy, not meant to be touched by mere mortals.

 _You will see it done._ The Goddess's voice echoes in his mind once more. He takes a breath, asks silently for Her blessing and gently pulls the sword free.

It is light, almost weightless in his hands. Then, slowly, it becomes heavier, until it feels as his old sword did in the days before the Ascension. A comforting and familiar weight in his right hand.

The sword glows, white Holy light flickering up the blade, tongues of sacred flame licking at the guard.

"This is the Sword of the Goddess, forged by Her Grace in the Sacred Realm at the edge of time itself. It carries Her Holy light and blessing, Hyruen," Fidelis says.

Link can feel it, an energy that sings through his blood, a purpose that reverberates in his bones.

He remembers how the sword had looked before, a bright, glittering blade that had shone like the sun in Her pale hand, Her shield held aloft and Her clear voice calling Her soldiers to battle.

"The sword is bound to you…Master," Fidelis says with reverence.

Link nods, slightly uncomfortable with the form of address. "Could you use my name please, Fidelis? Hyruen or Link would be better than Master."

Fidelis tilts its head. "Very well. Your preference is noted."

"What of Her shield?" Link asks, curious. It is strange to see only the sword and not its partner shield. "Was it lost?"

Fidelis shakes its head. "No. The Goddess entrusted it to me, so that it might be kept safe and secret. I do not think She would object to you carrying it into battle. It will protect you far better than any mortal creation."

Fidelis waves one fluttering arm and a shield appears in the air before it. The rounded shield is emblazoned with wide golden petals with the symbol of the Old gods in the center of the flower. The deep blue background seems to glow in the light of the temple.

"Her shield, whole once more," Fidelis says.

Link frowns. "It was broken?"

"In the final battle with the Demon King, the Goddess's shield broke during his last attack. Do you not recall this?" Fidelis asks.

Link shakes his head. He remembers the difficulty of the battle, the screaming of demons and mortals alike as they clashed, the sharp pain in his right shoulder from an arrow that had glanced off his shield, but he does not remember the Goddess's shield broken.

The last time he had seen Her, She had stood over the Demon King, Her face ablaze with wrath and Holy power gathering about Her as She raised Her blade high. The seal had bloomed across the ground, trapping the Demon King inside for eternity.

And he remembers white-hot pain in his chest, staring into furious metallic eyes and his mouth filling with blood. His sword falling from his hand, his body lifted from the ground by the force of the spirit's strength.

Bright, Holy light had swept the battlefield and the last thing he had heard as the darkness pulled him down into a dreamless, painless sleep from which he would not wake, was the sweet, lovely voice of the Goddess singing a victory hymn.

"Her shield was broken and repaired," Fidelis says as Link manages to pull his mind away from the memory of the warmth and sound of the Goddess's last song. He carefully grasps the shield, slinging it over his arm, the grip firm and solid beneath his fingers.

"She would not mind Her chosen warrior using it," Fidelis says. "You hold Her sword, why not Her shield as well? For nothing in this realm will protect you as it will."

"When facing creatures of demonic origin, the weapons of the Gods are best," Link agrees. "I am honored by Her gifts."

Fidelis makes another motion with its arm, a sheath and sword belt materializing as well as a shield strap that rests firmly over his chest and back. Link slides the sword home, wrapping the belt around his waist and buckling it. He slings the shield across his back; there is no need for it here. He feels more like the warrior he was now, armed with a proper weapon and shield at last.

Footsteps echo from the hall behind him and Link whirls.

Gaepora stands there, dark eyes wide. Link's loftwing chirps behind him, having followed the headmaster into the temple, nudging the man forward with her bill. The bird squawks, pushing past Gaepora to race over to her rider.

She butts his chest, grumbling at him. Link grins, scratching at her cheek. The bird caws, her yellow eyes quickly looking over him. She settles, satisfied that no harm had come to him.

The bond between them thrums with content, although there is still some suspicion aimed towards the sword spirit who hovers nearby.

"Easy," Link soothes the bird.

"Link?" Gaepora asks quietly, as if he cannot believe his eyes.

"Headmaster," Link replies, tilting his head, one hand resting easily on the pommel of the Goddess's sword. He traces the symbol of the Old Gods with a soft flick of his fingers. A way to ward off ill luck. It is an ingrained habit, one that annoyed his lieutenant when it occurred as he made rounds.

Gaepora takes in the empty pedestal and the spirit, before nodding to himself.

"The very knowledge of this room's existence is a secret passed down to a select few each generation," Gaepora says. "And only those few know how to access this part of the temple."

Link smiles. "Fidelis here was so kind to let me in."

The sword spirit flutters to his side.

Gaepora gives a long sigh. "So the prophecy of legend will come to pass in my lifetime…I never imagined it would be so."

"Prophecy?" Link asks, looking to Fidelis.

"The youth who draws for the guiding sword shall be known as the goddess's chosen hero, and it is he who possesses an unbreakable spirit," Fidelis says. "He shall be burdened with the task of abolishing the shadow of apocalypse from the land. Such is his destiny. With the spirit of the blade at his side, he shall soar over the clouds and plummet below. And united with the spirit maiden, shall bring forth a piercing light that resurrects the land."

"How do I reach the Surface though?" Links asks, "If I am to aid Zelda, I cannot do it from here."

"In living memory, no person has ever pierced the cloud barrier," Gaepora says, eyeing Link carefully.

Fidelis waves its arms and a worn stone tablet appears before the spirit. Several gems glitter in its surface. The green gem at the bottom right of the tablet glows, and as Link grasps the stone, he can feel a faint thrum beneath his fingertips.

"This tablet will open a way through the barrier," Fidelis says. A low rumbling and in the farthest edge of the room, at the stone altar below the relief of the Goddess, a section of stone slides back.

"Place the tablet within the altar and ask for the Goddess's aid, Hyruen," Fidelis says, "She will answer."

Link walks to the altar and sets the tablet down into the hollow of stone. A soft clunk echoes briefly and then silence reigns once more. Link kneels, bowing his head and closes his eyes.

For the briefest moment, Link can smell rain, feeling the warmth of Her kiss on his forehead and the strength of Her Will.

_Blessed are you, My Champion. Fear not. The way is open. Seek the pillar of earth. At its base will you find answers._

The words ring crystal clear through his mind as he opens his eyes and stands.

"The way is open, and the path to the Surface cleared," Fidelis says, floating to his side. "We may depart for the world below when you are ready."

"Will the darkness return to Skyloft? I would not leave until the city is protected." Link says.

Fidelis tilts its head. "There are preventive measures that can be put into place. They will purify the area and vanquish any dark spirits that still linger from the Demon King's servants' attack. The Goddess will protect Her People."

"Then let's start on those measures as soon as possible," Link decides. "I don't want Skyloft to be threatened by the darkness. I got lucky. Others might not be so fortunate."

"Link," Gaepora calls softly. "I do not know what this shadow of apocalypse is but it seems that it is both Zelda and your task to face this threat. If-if what this," he gestures towards the spirit, "being says is true...Zelda is alive! Alive and no doubt coming to terms with whatever the Goddess has in store for her. I don't know what you'll face down there, but I have faith that you will succeed in the task that the Goddess has set before you."

Link nods. "I will bring Zelda back, safe and unharmed, Gaepora. I promise."

Gaepora smiles. "You do your people proud, Link."

Fidelis shimmers suddenly and shrinks down to a small ball of blue light that vanishes into the hilt of the Goddess's sword.

 _I will begin the purification ritual, Hyruen. Call for me when you are ready._ Fidelis's chiming voice echoes in Link's mind.

 _Of course._ He sends back, focusing on Gaepora.

"Why does that being call you, 'Champion'?" Gaepora asks.

Link frowns for a second, then remembers that Hyruen has come to mean champion in the long years since the Ascension.

"It was better than Master," Link offers. "I asked not to be called that and Fidelis chose a different title instead."

"Ah," Gaepora says. "If you're going to the Surface, you're going to need better armor. One can't face down their enemies in everyday clothing."

Link smiles. He had actually done that a few times, one memorable occasion when a squad of singed bokoblins had ran screaming into the river that he and a few of his soldiers had been washing in. He had had to give props to Sara for the most inventive use of a soap bucket he had ever seen.

He holds back a snort at the memory. "This is true," he replies.

"The uniform that you were to receive for winning the race and graduating should be ready by now," Gaepora says. "Something sturdy like that will be much more suitable for the long journey ahead of you."

The headmaster turns and walks towards the passageway leading out. Link follows him.

He pauses at the edge of the room, turning back to look at the relief of the Goddess. Even now, the sweet, joyful sound of Her victory hymn echoes through his mind.

And then he walks away.


	8. Earthen homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, I know this is super late. Sorry about that, life has been really bloody stressful as of late and my muses have been flighty. This chapter was fighting me tooth and nail. I hope it's alright, given the amount of reworking I've done to it.   
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter and leave me your thoughts, please.

The armor fits well, and Link can easily move in it. It is a familiar weight, chainmail resting over thin cotton, a green tunic over the mail. Green has always suited him and it reminds him of sun-lit trees and warm earth beneath his feet. After Gaepora has left after making sure the armor fit, Link leaves the Academy and returns to the temple courtyard. At the edge of the courtyard, beneath one ancient tree, Link takes a breath, steadies himself and calls for Fidelis.

The spirit appears silently. “I am at your command, Hyruen.”

“How does the purification ritual work?” Link asks.

Fidelis’s blank eyes meet his, a keen intelligence glowing within. “By placing sacred talismans at certain points around the island, the Goddess’s blessing will banish the presence of the darkness,” the spirit replies.

“How do we create these talismans?”

Fidelis waves one arm and five rocks the size of Link’s hand appear and begin to orbit the spirit. The rocks glow, sacred words appearing in precise, neat handwriting across the stone surfaces.

“They will merely need your touch to activate,” the spirit tells him as the rocks slow to a stop and hover.

“What places will work best?” Link asks as he touches each talisman, focusing on protection and peace. Talismans rely on strong emotions; Link remembers a priestess saying so as she placed several violet crystals at the edge of camp the night before battle to protect the sleeping soldiers.  Protection will keep the monsters away, and peace will calm any animals unnerved by the monsters.

Fidelis hums, the notes causing the talismans to shudder. Link finishes activating the last talisman and steps back.

“I will show you,” Fidelis says, floating towards the entrance of the temple. The talismans follow, still in orbit around the spirit. “Come.”

It takes half the day to find the perfect place for each talisman and make sure they won’t be disturbed or removed by curious Skyloftians.

“I detect no more monsters in Skyloft’s vicinity, Hyruen,” Fidelis says. “The talismans hold.”

Link nods. “Good.” He sighs. “Now all that’s left is to gather supplies and then make our way to the Surface.”

The supplies are easily gathered from the marketplace, and Link dodges questions as to his destination.

“Joining the search parties?” the potion seller asks, handing him three vials of vibrant red potions.

“Yes, ma’am,” Link says, tucking the vials into his bag. “I’m heading east to look further.”

“Good luck to you, then. Goddess protect you.”

“And you,” Link replies and leaves the marketplace. His goodbyes are brief, mostly to mentors and other academy students. He doesn’t see Groose or his cronies about, thankfully. He has very little patience to deal with them right now. Gaepora gives him a nod as he passes the headmaster’s office on the way out.

The pillar is easy enough to find with Fidelis guiding him towards it. Link drifts just above it, finding glimpses of green forest beneath the clouds that pass over the small rift in the cloud layer. Link sidles as closely as he dares, almost half-hidden in the wispy top layer of the clouds.

 _You’ll have to jump, Hyruen_ , Fidelis says, a warm hum inside his mind. _Your Loftwing cannot follow you beneath the cloud layer._

Link eyes the rift, suddenly nervous. _Fear not_. Fidelis says.

Link’s Loftwing squawks, shifting beneath him. Strength and confidence flows through their bond. _I will be here when you return._ She seems to say.

Link nods, takes a breath and leaps from the Loftwing’s back.

Wind whistles past him, and then green earth is rushing up to meet him. Link sweeps the Sailcloth up, a smooth almost practiced movement for something he’s only owned for about a week. He lands with a soft thump and folds the cloth away.

Something thrums through his veins, fierce and joyful. Homecoming, at long, long last. Because for all that this body was born of the sky, Hyruen was born of earth.

 _This_ is truly home.

He looks up and to his surprise, sees only blue sky above. No cloud layer coats the sky, hiding Skyloft and her sister islands from the view of the Surface.

“Fidelis,” Link calls. “Is the cloud layer hidden?”

The spirit shimmers into being beside him. “Yes, Hyruen. The Goddess keeps the layer hidden from below. The inhabitants of the Surface see only the sky. If you concentrate, you should be able to view it.”

Link squints, imagining thick clouds and the rift above. It takes a moment and Link sees the faintest shimmer against the sky, and the briefest glimpse of thick clouds before the illusion of sky replaces it once more.

“That’s a bit unnerving,” Link says, tearing his gaze away from the sight and taking in his surroundings. The Temple to the Goddess remains standing, although weathered by time and the elements. The domed roof of what was the entry hall has collapsed, but the sanctuary doors still glow with dark orange seals, keeping the sacred hall free of darkness.

The sword spirit hovers beside him a moment longer then vanishes again, returning to the sword.

Link pauses, overlaying the image of the Temple in his mind with what now lies before him. The massive hole in the ground, a ramp spiraling down at the edges, was not there prior to Skyloft’s Ascension.

Link peers over the edge. There is something glowing at the bottom of the hole, a rounded flower insignia, gleaming a faint white in the mid-afternoon sunshine. The Goddess’s Seal. As he squints at the design, trying to see more intricate details, a wave of dark energy lashes out and he tumbles backwards, packed earth hard beneath his palms.

His injury burns, white-hot pain so terrible that for a moment he almost passes out. Then the aura of darkness recedes and the pain fades to a dull throbbing in his chest.

“Fidelis,” he rasps.

“Hyruen,” the spirit answers, appearing at his side. “What do you require?”

“What was that darkness? Was that the Demon King? Can he escape Her Seal?”

Fidelis takes a moment to answer, blank eyes somehow gaining a calculating appearance.

“The Seal will hold. I would suggest that a strike with the Goddess’s sword will strengthen the seal so that you will have time to find and aid the Honorable Zelda on her quest. The Demon King’s aura is minute; what you felt was the accumulation of small vestiges of his power gathered over centuries. It has dissipated entirely now. Think of it as...as you humans would call it, a warning strike.”

“Warning shot,” Link corrects. “But the sentiment is understood.” He stares down at the seal, this time noticing a stone standing upright in the center of the flower design. “How long will the seal hold with the additional energy from the Goddess’s sword? Months, years?”

Fidelis hums. “I suggest, Hyruen, that we strike the sealing stone first. Then I will calculate.”

Link nods, starting down the ramp. “Keep an eye out for any enemies that try to sneak up on us. I’d hate to get ambushed down here.”

“Yes, Hyruen.”

The seal glimmers brighter as Link moves towards it, drawing the Goddess’s sword.

Fidelis hovers at his shoulder. “Call for Her aid, Hyruen. Raise Her blade skyward and strike the stone with all of your might.”

Link steps closer, raising the sword high. He silently asks for the Goddess’s power and swings the blade down.

It doesn’t strike the stone. There is no clank of metal against rock. The sword _passes through_ the sealing stone. The seal glows bright and Link closes his eyes against the blinding glow.

After a moment, Link peers through narrowed eyes and finds the light gone. He sheathes the Goddess’s sword at his hip and waits.

“Calculating,” Fidelis says, leaning over the seal. The spirit is silent for a long time, the shadows of the steep walls moving closer as the sun makes its way across the sky.

“Five to six months, by Skyloftian calendars,” Fidelis says abruptly as Link muffles a yawn behind one hand.

“Can it be reinforced further?” Link asks. “Just in case.”

Fidelis eyes him and Link gets the sense the spirit is silently judging him for asking. “The seal could be reinforced further, but the sword would need more power to do so. At present, this is the most that can be done.”

Link nods. “Very well.” He glances up to where the temple sits at the edge of the ramp. “Let’s see the temple. We might find some sign of which direction Zelda is headed.”

There is a person standing there as they crest the ramp. Link automatically drops one hand to the sword, sweeping his right foot back, bracing for battle.

“Peace, young warrior,” an old woman’s voice says. “I have not come to harm you. You came from the Sky, like the young maiden before you.”

Link pauses. Fidelis gives a short trill, floating forward. The woman standing before them is small, hunched over and carrying a thin gnarled cane. A long, thin blonde braid is wrapped several times around her blue headdress, half-hidden under the hooded red cloak she wears. Gleaming silver-white bracelets dangle on bony wrists and from this short distance, Link can sense Holy Power within them.

Whomever this person is, they go with the Goddess’s blessing.

“Who are you?” Link asks.

The old woman laughs, soft and knowing. “I am of the Sheikah people, young warrior. Guardians of the Surface that the Goddess Herself appointed. We have stood watch for centuries, waiting for any sign that the Demon King would break from his prison and that the Goddess’s chosen Champion would return.”

“The seal has been strengthened for the moment,” Link says. “You saw a young woman earlier, blonde hair, blue eyes, about my height?”

“Yes,” the old woman says, nodding. “She was unhurt, though a little shaken. I sent her northwards to the Kikwi Elder, to reach the Forest Temple. She too has a duty given to her by the Goddess.”

“Did she have any weapons, any way to protect herself?” Link asks. Zelda is decent at martial arts, excelling in the fast-paced Ruby style taught at the Academy. Link favors the Opal style as it is more about strength than speed.

The woman nods. “She had a sling, young warrior and I gave her a blessed amulet. Any evil that approaches her will be burned if they get too close.”

Link knows that Zelda’s aim with a sling is somewhat terrifying. She can put a dent in a shield at ten paces if given time enough to build up speed. The amulet would keep enemies at a distance, and it was better than nothing.

“Which way to the Forest Temple?” Link asks. He doesn’t remember such a thing existing in the northern reaches of the province. There was the spring and the small shrine dedicated to Her but that was all that lay at the foot of the trees that the Goddess had planted upon her Arising as Guardian of the Land.

He remembers a soft smile and a gentle hand brushing across his forehead, blue eyes glowing in the Holy light of the spring. He remembers warm waters pouring over dark bruises and Holy power shivering through his veins.

Perhaps that was where Zelda was heading? To the spring to ask for the Goddess’s blessing in her quest?

The Sheikah woman smiles, her eyes hidden under her hood. She waves a hand, and the seals on the Sanctuary doors shatter and the doors swing inwards. Fidelis vanishes into the sword with a musical hum, seemingly content to wait inside the hilt of the blade until needed again.

“Go through the temple and take the door on the right, young warrior. The path leads north, towards a great tree. Near that, you will find the ruins of one of the old outposts from the Demon War, behind which lies the path to the Forest temple.”

“Outpost?” Link asks. “Do you know the name?” There had been many that Hyruen had established as the army pushed south and many that had been lost during subsequent battles. In the woods of Faron, there had been three large outposts, one of which had been lost just prior to the last battle with the Demon King’s forces.

Caer Lasa. Link remembers the pain of calling for the retreat, leaving the outpost to the enemy as the army gathered the fallen and injured, pulling back behind ward lines and the sacred protections of the Goddess’s Temple.

The Sheikah shakes her head. “No, the name has been lost to time, young warrior.”

Link nods. “Thank you, Guardian. May we meet again.”

“May we meet again, young warrior. I wish you luck.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Link steps into the temple, pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust. Dim sunlight slides through dark glass, lending an amber light to the temple’s interior. The scent of sun-dew flowers is faint here as Link crosses the worn stone floor to the door on the far side.

He pushes it open, finding a weathered stone staircase up and climbing quickly up. Afternoon sunlight slants through the dark treetops as Link walks through the small clearing.

Ahead, the sound of bokoblins rises, familiar and grating. Link draws his sword and runs forward.


	9. Tracking the Spirit Maiden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, here is chapter nine, after gods knows how long. Sorry, the muses went on an extended vacation and life decided to whack us upside the head really good.   
> There's a lot going on personally and academically right now, so we have no idea when the next chapter is going to come out. Hang in there, friends, we'll try to get the next one out when we can.  
> As always, feedback is appreciated. What you liked, what could use some work on, ect.
> 
> Thank you very much for sticking around, and we hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Five red bokoblins dance around a Goron. The Goron shrieks, avoiding a few club strikes aimed his way, curling in a ball. Sparks fly off his rocky hide.

Link rolls forward, cutting down the nearest bokoblin. The creature screams and its comrades turn and attack.

Link has little difficulty taking them down. He remembers how bokoblins move, where the flesh is weak and fragile. Not much has changed in the years since the Ascension. Only a slight variation on armor design from what Link can see in the short moment he has to survey the field before leaping into the fray.

The last Bokoblin falls with a low gurgle, sword falling to the ground with a soft thump. It is silent once more, save for the distant chirping of the small birds that populate the Surface’s trees and hollows.

The Goron shifts, and Link can see the small pinpricks of light that are his eyes searching around. Seeing no immediate danger, the Goron unrolls, standing up and turns to face Link.

Gorons are on average a head or so taller than Hylia’s people. This Goron is no different; Link’s head barely reaches his chin.

“Thanks for jumping in to rescue me, buddy!” the Goron says, cheerfully as if he hadn’t been in mortal danger five minutes ago. Link doesn’t think he’s used to combat; the Goron doesn’t bear the markings of the warrior caste of Gorons. The markings on his arms indicate a scholarly pursuit, which is further solidified by the tome and scrolls Link can see resting in the Goron’s pack.

“Perhaps you should invest in hiring guards,” Link says, cleaning the Goddess’s sword and sheathing it. “Bokoblins travel in groups, if they were patrolling, their absence will be noticed.”

The Goron nods. “They’ve never traveled this far west before. A lot of strange things have been happening lately. Oh, I’m Gorko, by the way,” he says. “A researcher of these ancient woods.”

Link tilts his head. “I am Link. What kind of strange things have been happening?”

“Well,” Gorko says. “This is the second time I’ve run into one of your kind today, that doesn’t happen often. Not to mention the increasing number of bokoblins hanging around that old temple. Creepy little buggers. They’re following some prancy spirit thing.”

“Spirit thing?” Link asks. “What kind of spirit?”

“I don’t know for sure. None of the Legends that I’ve read have anything substantial on spirits.”

“Fidelis,” Link calls and the spirit appears beside him.

“Yes, Hyruen?”

“Could you describe the spirit to Fidelis here?” Link asks.

“Well,” Gorko says after a long pause, examining the new arrival with wary eyes, “It’s male, or male looking, I suppose, white hair, flits around quicker than the eye can see and reappears and disappears in flashes of red and gold diamonds. I think it’s a bit of a show off.”

“The description does not match any of the sword spirits that were seen in the Demon War, Hyruen,” Fidelis reports. “This may be a new entity created in the time after the Ascension, either that or it is a spirit that is hiding its form.”

“Whatever it is,” Gorko says. “It’s been hanging out near the old temple. I can’t get near the place to study the carvings there due to the bokoblins. It’s been holding back my research for weeks now.”

“You said that you’ve run into another of my kind,” Link says. “Did they have blonde hair and blue eyes?”

Gorko thinks for a moment. “Hmm. I believe so. They wanted to know the way to the forest temple, what the area was like and such. I pointed them down the path and told them to be careful. They went that way,” the Goron says, pointing towards a well-worn path.

“Thank you, Gorko,” Link says. “You’ve been most helpful. Perhaps I can repay the favor at a later date.”

“If you could clear out those bokoblins down by the temple in the same way you did with the ones here,” Gorko says, “That’d be good enough for me.”

“Very well,” Link says, giving a slight bow. “Thank you for your help. Goddess watch over you until we meet again.”

“You as well, young Link,” Gorko says, his large hands clasped before him as he bows. It’s a familiar gesture. Link had seen many of the Gorons who were part of the Goddess’s army do the same. A gesture of respect.

Link turns and heads into the forest, Fidelis at his side. The spirit is surveying as they moving, head swiveling back and forth.

“Fidelis, is there a way to better track Zelda?” Link asks, as they follow the path past a cluster of large, bright mushrooms. He can track fairly well, but it is not his strong suit. He briefly wishes that he’d brought Karane with him.

She was a chatterbox, prone to waxing philosophical over Pipit’s arms, but the girl could track a Guay in the dark of night. Tracking Zelda would have been a piece of pie for her.

“I can follow her aura,” the spirit says. “She was here recently. The highest concentration of aura is up ahead, though it leads further on.”

“So she stayed in this area for some time?” Link asks. A sudden rattling sound has him drawing the Goddess’s sword.

A Deku-Baba growls, waving its leafy head from where it sits in the middle of the path. Link winces. Hyruen was bit by one of the plants during the retreat to the Goddess’s temple. He hadn’t seen it in time to avoid the lunging bite, too intent on getting his men to safety. Sharp teeth had sunk deep into his leg and he limped all the way back.

Link easily dispatches it, watching the rest of the plant wither and crumple to the ground, cleaning the edge of the blade as he walks.

“In answer to your earlier question, Hyruen,” Fidelis says. “Yes. The spirit maiden Zelda stayed in this area for some time before moving on.”

“What exactly is aura?” Link asks, sheathing his sword. He knows every person’s aura is unique and few can see it but he doesn’t know _what_ it is. He never had time to consider the magics that the Goddess had created, being a warrior with no gift for arcane spells and incantations. He was more focused on fighting a war, the last time he was on the Surface.

“Aura is the projection of one’s emotions and feelings, represented as a halo of particular color around them. It can be used to follow an individual within a certain timespan. The spirit maiden’s aura is a bright pink.”

“Huh,” Link says. “Fits.” Zelda adores pink.

“Yours is a pale blue,” Fidelis says after a pause. “The Goron, Gorko, had a green aura.”

“Interesting,” Link says. “How close are we to that collection of aura?”

“We are at the edge of it now,” Fidelis reports.

There is a tree, a few bushes, but little else in the clearing. Link squints, surveying the area. The dirt at the far edge is scuffed and disturbed. He tilts his head, eyeing the small, leafy bush beside the tree.

A glint of light reflects from something within the foliage.

_That is not a bush._

“Come out.,” Link calls. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just have a few questions to ask you.”

“Kikyu?” the bush says.

“I believe that is a Kikwi, Hyruen,” Fidelis says. “An adolescent Kikwi.”

“I don’t remember them being that small,” Link says.

“They grow larger when they reach adulthood. Many who served in the Goddess’s army were just past their adulthood, so they were of a larger size than this one,” Fidelis says.

“Excuse you!” the Kikwi says indignantly, popping up and flaring its leaves wide, revealing a pale underbelly and glittering beetle-like eyes. “I am an adult!”

Link muffles a laugh behind one hand. “Alright. You’re an adult. Did you see someone like me come by here not too long ago?”

The Kikwi chirps, thinking. “Well, there was someone tall with bright vines on their head, kinda like you. They went with the elder. Some of those red guys were chasing them but they got away. I’ve been hiding here since.”

“Do you know where the elder and my friend might have gone?” Link asks. “A place in the forest where they would be safe?”

The Kikwi hums. “Further north, there is a great ruined stone building and just south of that is a tree beside a waterfall. The elder lives there in summer. I think they would go there.”

“I sense Zelda’s aura in that direction, Hyruen,” Fidelis says, “Though it is faint, indicating she did not stay long.”

“Then we’ll head that way,” Link says, before turning back to the Kikwi. “The path behind us should be safe for the moment if you wanted to get out of here.”

The Kikwi shakes its leafy head. “I’ll be fine here. Could you tell the elder that Machi is safe when you find him? I’m sure he’s worried sick about us all with the monsters about.”

“Of course,” Link says. “Goddess watch over you.”

“And you!” Machi chirps, and scuttles off towards a small cluster of bushes where it proceeds to flop down and camouflage once more.

“Fidelis,” Link says as they begin walking again. “How many enemies do you sense ahead?”

The spirit is silent, head tilted as if listening to something. “Ten within a mile of our current position. Five near the estimated position of the Kikwi elder, not including the previously mentioned ten. There are an estimated fifty-three within two miles of the Forest Temple.”

“Cheery,” Link says, glancing at the sky, gauging the position of the sun. “Let’s see if we can find that elder before the sun sets. I’d like to not set up camp in the dark.”

“We have approximately six hours until sundown, Hyruen,” Fidelis reports. “We should reach the elder in under one hour.”

“Good,” Link says.

The elder is not very good at hiding, and easily spotted. It is hard to hide something that is larger than eight Loftwings put together. Link hadn’t thought Kikwis grew to be so _big_.

Then again, maybe it was a strange adaptation in the years since the Ascension.

 The elder eventually points them north and Fidelis confirms the presence of Zelda’s aura trail.

“There is another aura trail in the area, Hyruen,” Fidelis says as Link climbs a small hill and rests at the top in a half-crouch. He can see ruins ahead, stone crumbling and moss-covered. Caer Lasa, collapsing and broken.

“What kind of aura?” he asks, pushing away memories of a battle long lost and the despair and anger that had accompanied their retreat from the Demon King’s forces.

“Malevolent and grey. It has been here as recently as three hours ago but is not here now.”

“Do you think it followed Zelda?”

“It is highly likely,” Fidelis says.

 Link curses softly. “I don’t see any enemies, but can you sense anything?”

It never hurts to be cautious. Link waits, hand on his sword.

“No. There are no enemies in the immediate area. There is a small group of four bokoblins heading in this direction, however. If we move quickly, we will be able to evade them.”

Link rises and sets off at a fast jog. He can see stairs behind the ruin, leading up to a platform that sits beside what looks to be a small tunnel leading deeper into the forest.

“This way?”

“Yes.”

There is a shiver of dread crawling down his spine as Link passes through the dimly lit tunnel. Something is watching them.

He remembers blank white eyes filled with a burning, seething anger. A voice ringing in his ears as the sword was pushed into his chest. And the mad laughter before the Goddess’s power had swept the battlefield.

 _-My master will rise again. But **you**_ _won’t.-_

Link flicks his fingers over the pommel of the Goddess’s sword.

 _Hylia, guide me,_ he prays, and continues on.


	10. Chapter 10

It takes Link the rest of the day before sunset to reach the temple, navigating through ravines and Bokoblins, coming at last to rest before the entrance to the Forest Temple.

The sun is slipping beneath the horizon, dyeing the sky an eerie red-violet as Link makes camp off to the edge of the temple, under a large oak tree.

“When was the temple built?” he asks Fidelis, standing watch beside the fire.

Normally Link would have camped without the fire, this deep in unfamiliar territory rather than risk an enemy seeing the smoke, but he knows the nights in Faron are cold and he’s unwilling to risk freezing to death. And Fidelis has assured him that there are no enemies camped near enough to bother him.

“The temple was raised two years after the Ascension,” Fidelis says, blank eyes reflecting the flickering flames. “Hylia built it around the sacred springs. It was a place of contemplation and worship for many years.”

“But is no longer,” Link notes.

“That is correct.”

“Why is that?” Link asks, taking a long drink from his canteen. The water is slightly warm from its proximity to the fire, but Link doesn’t mind. He’s had far worse.

“The rising number of enemies forced worshipers out of the area,” Fidelis says, “If the enemies were destroyed, the temple may revive once more.”

“We’d have to find a way to keep them out for good,” Link says. “Ending the Demon King for eternity might do it.”

“It is a possibility,” Fidelis agrees. “It would be wise to rest, Hyruen, if we are to enter the temple in the morning.”

Link nods. “Wake me if anything suspicious happens.”

“Of course.”

He dreams not of green, of flowers and trees alight with life in the midst of spring and rebirth and new growth, of birds chattering in boughs laden with blue and white flowers.

He dreams instead of red, dripping down blades of silver-white and splashed across a battered shield that weighs heavily on his arm.

Red that darkens into black, flaking from his hands, clinging to his armor with terrible tenacity.

It fills his mouth with the taste of copper, sharp and bitter. The cloying scent clogs his nose-

 _“My master will rise again, but **you**_ _won’t!”_

-he gasps awake, drawing a quiet chirp from Fidelis who floats just beside him, still on watch.

It takes a few moments, to re-center himself and quiet the pounding in his heart.

_O Hylia, Lady of Light, Guardian of Worlds. I ask for your protection and blessing, Most Holy, in my hour of need. I ask that my aim be true and my sword strong. Blessed is thy name, Most Holy, Lady of Mercy and Wisdom._

“Do you sense any darkness in the area?” Link asks, reaching for his canteen to rinse the taste of blood from his mouth.

“There is a bokoblin scout two miles south of our current position, but I sense no others nearby. The darkness of the Demon King remains near the Temple of the Goddess,” Fidelis reports.

Link glances up at the sky. It’s nearing dawn.

It’s a good a time as any to head into the Forest Temple proper.

He rises, swiftly packing camp. The doors swing open silently as he approaches, and he tenses.

“The temple recognizes the power of the Goddess, and it yields to such,” Fidelis says. “However, it does appear that these doors have been forced open within the last day and then resealed from the inside.”

“By Zelda or something else?”

“Something other than Zelda,” Fidelis says after a pause. “The presence is the same as the one identified earlier.”

Link does not like the sound of that, drawing his sword as they enter the Forest temple.

The inside of the temple is warm and silent. The halls are overgrown with vines and Link must slash a few to pass.

Fidelis is a quiet presence at his back. He feels better if the spirit remains out in the open, rather than in the pommel of the Goddess’s sword.

The spirit also can continuously scan for enemies in the vicinity.

“There are three Keese on the ceiling ahead, Hyruen,” Fidelis reports and Link nods, sword in hand and shield on his arm, ready for combat.

 _Always have your weapon out when exploring enemy territory._ It’s a lesson that has been burned into his brain. This is, for all intents and purposes, enemy lands. It has not been sanctified ground for nearly two centuries.

Even so, the Keese here are only just beginning to show signs of being tainted. Their blood hisses against the metal of the Goddess’s sword, boiling away at the touch of the holy blade.

“One would think they’d be more corrupted,” Link says, nudging one corpse carefully away with his boot.

“The corruption is recent,” Fidelis notes. “Within the last few days.”

“Whatever forced open the temple doors, most likely,” Link says.

“The presence is deeper within the temple,” Fidelis says, “It is not moving from its position.”

“It’s waiting,” Link says. “Or trapped.”

“A possibility,” Fidelis says serenely.

“How much further to that aura?” Link asks, peering around a corner, spying a large Skulltula lurking in a web at the end of the corridor.

“Four hundred feet,” Fidelis reports. “Zelda’s aura is somewhere beyond that. The dark aura has not touched her.”

“Yet,” Link says grimly as he crouches, digging through his pack. He has a flint in here somewhere. A few moments later, he produces the flint rocks and starts a small fire from one of the vines nearby.

“You intend to light the Skulltula on fire?” Fidelis asks.

Link shakes his head, a memory flaring to life as the flames begin to gnaw at the vine. “Lighting the web is a distraction. We used to use their webs for firestarters on campaign when we couldn’t find any grass or weeds. They burn pretty well.”

He very carefully maneuvers the burning vine into his slingshot and releases. The burning projectile slams into the web just above the Skulltula’s bulbous abdomen and the creature shrieks, leaping from the web, scuttling back a pace or two, chittering angrily as its home is devoured by flames.

Link creeps quickly up behind it, and rams the Goddess’s sword into the creature’s underbelly. The dark purple hide is thin and tears easily, black blood splattering the ground.

The Skulltula shudders, and Link rips the sword free and jumps back to avoid being caught in its death throes. The legs are tipped with a paralyzing venom; something Link would much rather avoid.

He’s seen the effects before. Depending on the individual, one sting could paralyze for up to an hour.

Hyruen’s cousin, Edris, had been an advance scout for the army and had been caught unaware by a Skulltula. It was only thanks to his partner, Yiem, that he had even made it back to camp alive. Four hours later, he had finally regained full movement. The scouting teams had increased their numbers after that event.

Link cleans the sword of blood and gingerly steps past the still corpse.

-

The lock on the door opens with a quiet clunk, golden light fading away as the door begins to swing inward.

Link can feel the spark of darkness that lies within now, the creature that has managed to break through even this part of the temple’s defenses, lurking somewhere ahead.

It’s waiting.

“Be wary, Hyruen,” Fidelis cautions and vanishes into the sword.

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Link says, tightening his grip on the hilt of the sacred blade.

There is a blast of light as Link enters a circular room, the door thudding shut behind him.

When the light fades, Link can see a figure standing before another door, sealed with what Link can feel is Holy power. The figure raises their sword again, dark energy coalescing around the blade.

They pause, the blade melting away into black diamonds that are drawn back into the figure who turns towards him.

Grey skin and a shock of white hair hides one eye, while the other ink-black iris stares coldly at Link. There are purple markings under the eye that Link can see, identical to some of the markings that he had seen on a few of the demons in the Demon King's army during the Ascension War.

Only high-ranking members dared to decorate themselves so.

He faces a general of the Demon King.

"Look who it is. I thought that tornado I stirred up would have tossed and torn you apart, yet here you are. Not in pieces. Not that your life or death has any consequence,” the general says.

Their voice is soft, almost dismissive. But Link can hear the menace just barely hidden beneath.

"It's just the girl that matters now, and I can sense here here...just behind this door,” the general says, tapping the door with one long black nailed finger, ignoring the flare of holy energy as the seal reacts to the demonic presence.

 _Fidelis?_  Link asks silently. _Is Zelda still here within the Temple?_

_No. There is an artifact of Holy power beyond that is amplifying Zelda’s residual aura. It is likely that is what this being is sensing._

Link bites back the sigh of relief that this demon will be unable to touch Zelda. The artifact however…

 _What kind of artifact?_  he asks.

_An amulet containing a sliver of the Goddess’s power._

Well, the demon is not getting its hands on that, Link thinks, keeping an eye on the demon who has begun to pace the edge of the chamber.

"Yes, we plucked Her Majesty from her perch in the clouds, and now she's ours,” the demon continues.

 _Majesty?_ Link wonders at the title. _Zelda is not royalty._

 _She is a being with sacred power._ Fidelis replies. _Even enemies use titles._

“Oh,” the demon says, smiling coldly, “but listen to me. I'm being positively uncivil. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Demon Lord who presides over this land you look down upon, this world you call the Surface. You may call me Ghirahim."

He bows slightly.

Link tilts his head, waiting. He’s not giving the demon his name.

_Names when invoked give power. He doubts that the demon has given his true name here._

“By all rights, the girl should have fallen into our hands already. She was nearly ours when that _loathsome_ servant of the goddess snatched her away!" Ghirahim hisses.

 _Servant?_ Link asks Fidelis. _Can you sense anyone else having trailed Zelda?_

 _No._ Fidelis answers, the spirit’s tone grave. _There is no trace of any person or being having followed Zelda._

The room grows dim, almost as if the demon lord’s anger is sapping the light itself to fuel his rage.

"Do you have any idea how that made me feel inside? Furious! Outraged! Sick with anger!" Ghirahim’s arms flail about and he vanishes suddenly, though his voice still echoes about the room.

"This turn of events has left me with a strong appetite for bloodshed."

There is the faintest presence of darkness behind him and Link spins on his heel, blade up, ready.

Ghirahim doesn’t seem perturbed at being found, even sticking out an abnormally long tongue in mockery and continuing to speak, "Still, it hardly seems fair, being of my position, to take all of my anger out on you. Which is why I promise upfront not to murder you."

"No, I'll just beat you within an inch of your life!"

The first attack, when it comes, pushes Link back and away, towards the door he had entered in.

This clash of holy blade upon demonic shadow is familiar. A half-forgotten memory, hazed by time, coming alive like a spark of flame upon wood. Link doesn’t dwell on it, ducking a barrage of daggers and rolls, aiming low. Ghirahim merely backflips and laughs from his spot upside down on the ceiling.

“A bit hard to hit me up here, hero!” he says gleefully, summoning more daggers with a snap of his fingers.

Link brings his shield up in time to block the daggers, the impact making his arm shake.

He steels himself, and holy energy lashes out, sending Ghirahim crashing down. The demon growls, climbing to his feet, sword in hand once more.

Their blades clash again and again, until the chamber rings with the sound of their blows and yells. Link manages to catch the demon’s arm with the edge of his sword and Ghirahim screams, smoke rising as he tears away from Link.

Holy light burns demons just as the darkness does Hylians.

Ghirahim howls, lunging forward and sinks a dagger into Link’s arm, ignoring the shield that slams into his head as the dagger carves through Link’s flesh.

The demon darts back, grinning.

 Link’s arm is burning, but he swings his sword, ducking the barrage of daggers to land another blow that staggers the demon who flits out the way, and comes to a stop a few feet away, out of reach.

“Well, you put up more fight than I would have thought possible out of such a soft boy. But don’t clap for yourself quite yet. That sword of yours is the only reason you still live,” Ghirahim says, his one visible eye burning with malice.

“I fear I spent far too long teasing and toying with you. The girl’s presence has all but faded from this place, which means there’s no reason to linger here. Good-bye, sky child. Run and play this time. Get in my way again, though, and you’re dead.”

The demon raises his sword, and with a swipe of dark energy, is gone from the temple.

Light returns to the chamber slowly, and the door on the opposite side flares with sacred light and swings quietly open.

Link stumbles into the next room, sinking to his knees as soon as the door clicks shut behind him, the Goddess’s sword dropping from his hand to hit the floor with a clang. He is exhausted.

Fidelis is at his side in second, a blue shape at the edge of his vision.

“Hyruen?”

“Fine,” he rasps as soon as the feeling comes back into his legs. His hands are trembling, blood oozing down his sword arm, the burning pain of the darkness lingering. The Goddess’s sword rests beside him, radiating warmth that eases the pain.

He tilts his head back, finding bright sunlight streaming through the trees. Butterflies and small birds fly about the area.

He’s not sure how long he watches them, the fear and adrenaline draining away in the light of the Goddess’s spring.

The trees planted so long-ago tower over the spring now, boughs laden with pink and white blossoms. Sun-dew flowers float in the water beneath a statue of the Goddess, the stone pale and seemingly untouched by time.

There is no one else here, save Fidelis who hovers beside him, humming faintly.

Link leans against the door. “Fidelis.”

“Yes?” the spirit asks.

“Do you know which way Zelda went?” Link closes his eyes.

“The aura trail of Zelda leads north, Hyruen, towards Eldin province,” Fidelis reports. “I sense no person following her, despite Ghirahim’s claims of a servant of the Goddess saving Zelda.”

“Any idea of how much of a head start she has?” Link asks.

Fidelis considers for a few moments.

“Two days at minimum.”

Link opens his eyes and after a moment of looking through his pack with shaking fingers, finds a roll of linen and binds his arm. It’s a little difficult using one arm, but he manages.

He stands, “The artifact will be safer with us, yes?”

“The protections here will not hold against a full-scale attack,” Fidelis says. “It would be better to take it with us.”

“Is there anything I need to do before taking it?” Link asks. Some temples had wards on their artifacts, allowing only the chosen priestesses to take them from their resting places.

“No.”

The artifact of the Goddess rests at the statue’s feet, a glimmer of blue against pale stone. A necklace, one with a blue scale etched with swirling patterns. It feels warm in his hands.

“It is made of a heart-scale of Faron, protector of these woods in the centuries past,” Fidelis says.

“What happened to them?” Link asks.

“Unknown. Faron’s presence here is faded, an echo of once was.”

Link traces the patterns, and- something white and golden stands just behind him, a glowing shape out the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t turn. The presence is Holy and warm, unthreatening.

_Well done, my Champion. Be blessed and follow the Spirit Maiden on her journey. The lands of Eldin await._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look at that, I'm not dead!   
> Apologies for the late, late chapter, friends. Inspiration has been rather hard to find of late. I'll try my best to get the next chapter up soon.  
> As always, please leave a review, and thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look who's not dead! Sorry this chapter took so long, friends. My creativity has been a bit fried lately. Hopefully, the next chapter won't fight me so hard. I hope you enjoy.

The Goddess's presence is warm, and Link basks in it.

 _My Champion._ She says softly, and Link feels Her Presence at his back, hands resting on his shoulders.

He knows that if he looks up, he will see Her. She is unearthly tall, and he remembers how She towered over many on the battlefield.

She takes the amulet from his hands, and it settles around his neck, glowing faintly.

“Most Holy,” he says, as one Holy hand tilts his head back, the other remaining on his shoulder.

Eyes like the deepest oceans, the color of the sky as it fades to the blue-black of night, look down at him, from a face that is darkness and light both.

 _My Champion,_ the Goddess says again, smiling. _Glad are We to see you before Us once more._

“Blessed am I to see your Majesty again, most Holy,” Link says.

_Our power is waning, Champion. The Old Gods will rise again, and Hylia will fade from memory, into mist once more, a silent watcher at the edge of time._

Link blinks up at Her, the idea that Hylia would fade away was… 

The Goddess smiles. _Still faith burns as a flame within your heart, my Champion. Doubt chased away with truth._

_Help the Spirit Maiden, she bears Our Wisdom, and she will need your aid. The Demon King still claws at his prison’s walls. Much of Our Power remains to keep him at bay._

_Will you aid Us in defeating him at last?_ Her voice is soft.

Link’s throat is tight, but he manages to speak. “How could I not, Most Holy? Zelda is one of my dearest friends. I have served You before and I gladly will take up Your sword and fight for You once more.”

 _Strong is your heart, my Champion._ The Goddess says.

Link closes his eyes as She leans down, the faintest press of Her lips against his forehead. His arm no longer aches, exhaustion driven back a few steps more and he sighs with relief.

 _My Blessed Hyruen._ She says, voice low and soft. _Go to Our Temple in the Heavens._

When he opens his eyes again, he stands alone before a pedestal beneath a glass sun-lotus ceiling, a stone tablet in his hands.

Skyloft’s Temple.

Link walks forward to where the emerald tablet rests, placing the newly acquired ruby tablet beside its sister, the gem at its edge gleaming in the sunlight filled room.

 _The pillar of flame has awakened._ Fidelis says. _The way to Eldin is open._

It’s late afternoon, drifting into evening as Link exits the Temple of the Goddess. The sun is setting, dipping down beneath the clouds.

“We’ll talk to Gaepora and then re-supply before heading down,” Link says.

Gaepora is in his office and jumps when Link enters.

“Link! You’re back!” Gaepora says, moving round his desk to survey Link.

 “Yes, with minor injuries,” Link says, ignoring the twinge in his arm as Gaepora claps his shoulder in greeting.

“And Zelda?” Gaepora asks, peering around Link, as if he was hiding her from view.

“Zelda is alive and well, but I’ve not caught up to her. She’s apparently in Eldin territory to the north. We’ll be heading there after a night’s rest,” Link says. “We’ve managed to open a way through the cloud barrier.”

“Another opening?” Gaepora says, “Hmm. We did see a disturbance in the cloud layer to the north.”

“Eldin province,” Link says. “It’s mostly volcanic in nature but there is a temple to the Goddess there. She’s probably headed there.”

He hadn’t traveled much through Eldin before, but he remembers the sharp smell of sulfur and the faint volcanic rumblings felt while standing watch on dark moonless nights.

He remembers the brightly painted murals within the walls of the Earth Temple, the hot spring that bubbled in its depths, the sense of Holiness that pervaded the earth and water.

Gaepora nods, though his brow furrows as he looks at Link. The man is worried for his daughter, Link knows.

“She’ll be fine, Gaepora,” Link says. “The Goddess will not allow one of Her chosen to come to harm.”

“Such faith you have,” Gaepora replies, with a sad smile. “I trust in Her that my daughter will come home. I fear that she will not come home the same as she was.”

“We all grow and change in time,” Link says, “Zelda is strong, this journey will not break her.”

Gaepora nods again, clapping Link’s shoulder again. “You do your people proud, Link.”

Link leaves after that, stopping briefly in the kitchens for a meal before retiring to the bathhouse to clean away the blood he knows has dried under his tunic.

In total, he’s suffered mostly bruises and one wound to his sword arm. The dagger had cut deep on Ghirahim’s vicious strike. Link examines it carefully; it’ll have to be bound though it will thankfully not require stitching. The Goddess’s touch had only burned away the darkness, not healed the wound completely.

It worries him that She had Power enough to do only that, the rest of it going to the Seal. _How much longer would Her Seal keep the Demon at bay_ _?_

He rises from the water, dries off, and gathers his now clean clothes.

He makes it back to his room without running into anyone, and the wound is quickly bound, and his clothes hung up to dry.

Link leans back in his chair beside his bed, tiredness abruptly sweeping over him, arm throbbing once more. It’s been a long few days.

“Fidelis,” he says quietly, even though he knows that Zelda’s room is the only one nearest to him, and it is empty now.

The spirit appears silently. “Yes, Hyruen?”

“What can you tell me about Eldin province? Inhabitants, terrain, any changes since the Ascension?”

Fidelis hums. “The province is comprised nearly entirely of volcanic rock, as the nearby volcano has erupted four times since the Ascension and remains active. Local species include Bokoblins, Mogmas and Fire Keese.”

“And the Mogmas are still friendly?” Link asks. He’d met a few during the war. They’d functioned best as spies, tunneling underground to listen and report back from beneath enemy lines.

“To an extent,” Fidelis reports. “The main focus of the tribe inhabiting the area of the volcano is as treasure hunters. They are cunning, but many lack the particular stealth of their ancestors.”

“How active is the volcano?” Link asks, standing and reaching for a spare set of nightclothes. 

“The last major eruption was two years ago,” Fidelis says. “No recent eruptions since. Caution is advised however as much of magma flows remain active.”

“Hmm,” Link says, tugging his shirt over his head, “Is the way into the temple clear at least?”

Fidelis tilts their head. “Unknown. I would need to see the volcano proper to determine if the path is clear.”

“All right,” Link says. “We’ll gather supplies and leave just after first prayers.”

“As you say,” Fidelis says and vanishes.

Morning dawns, the sky red and ominous. Link hasn’t dreamt, and he is thankful that his nightmares have abated for the moment.

Link slips silently from the dorm, sword honed and carrying enough rations for a fortnight. He stands at the edge of the bridge leading to the Temple and pauses for a short prayer. The rest of Skyloft will be performing similar rituals and prayers as they prepare for the day.

He hasn’t used any of his potions yet, so he doesn’t need to go to the market, instead calling for his Loftwing and heading north.

She is glad to see him, cawing happily as they fly, and hovers low over the opening in the cloud layer.

Even from here, Link can see faint glow of the volcano’s peak through the wispy clouds.

“I won’t be long,” he tells his Loftwing, scratching at her head as he balances on her back, preparing to leap. She chirrups, nudging at her fingers.

 _Hurry, Hyruen._ Fidelis says. _A patrol is nearing._

“Near enough to see us?” Link asks.

_Not yet. Hurry._

Link plummets without hesitation, vanishing below the clouds.

The land of Eldin is red and sunbaked, the volcano tall and imposing. The air is hot, the scent of sulfur growing as Link nears the earth.

Link lands at the base of a towering plateau. The sun is low, just visible over the slope of the volcano.

“Fidelis, can you see about that path?” Link asks.

“One moment,” Fidelis says, appearing beside him, and looking towards the peak. “Examining local terrain. The path to the earth temple is clear, if well patrolled.”

“Bokoblins, I assume?”

“Yes, a total of fifty scattered patrolling the path and the surrounding area.”

“Lovely,” Link says, shading his eyes as he glances over the area. “Well, it’s only going to get hotter. Hopefully, we can reach the temple before nightfall.”

They camp on a ridge that night, just beside the temple, in a small alcove of red rock. Link can see the stars, gleaming and bright between the drifting clouds that hide the waning moon from view.

In the distance, Link can hear the sound of a bokoblin howling, the sound carried on the sulfur-tinged wind.

He’d seen a black cloaked figure darting ahead of him a few times as they had made their way up to the temple. Fidelis hadn’t been able to identify it and it made him nervous. But whatever it was hadn’t attacked them, so that was something.

“Fidelis, keep watch please,” he says, closing his eyes.

“Of course, Hyruen.”

_He stands in a spring, water lapping about his bare ankles. Volcanic rock cradles this pool of water, steam rising into the air._

_“Hyruen. Do you not see the path that I’ve laid before you? Blessed and Sacred is your Destiny, my most Beloved Champion,” the Goddess says in his ear. Her eyes gleam in the reflection that he can see in the water below._

_“The_ _of Faron will shield you from the flame, Champion. The maiden awaits your arrival.”_

He jolts back into consciousness as Fidelis gives a sharp, piercing trill. Link slides the Goddess’s sword free of its sheath and slides back into a defensive stance, blinking furiously.

It’s dawn and the black clad figure is darting into the temple, the doors opened at last.

Link swears and darts after them, Fidelis floating after.

The air inside the temple is hot, and Link gets the sense that it would be scorching his skin if not for the amulet that rests against his heart, cool like the springs of Faron. He squints, not finding the black clad figure in the shadows of the chamber.

Lava flows around a tiled walkway, red and golden arches etched from rock in lifetimes long passed. Fire keese hover above the bubbling lava, their shrieks echoing against the high ceilings half hidden in shadow.

Link doesn’t see the figure again but finds plenty of enemies. By the time he reaches the heart of the temple, key in hand, nearly two hours have passed.

He presses the key into the door, hearing the faint click and the lock glows brightly.  

The door to the inner sanctuary swings open, a whisper of divine power passing over Link.

Dark green pillars tower above him as he enters, the floor is a dull, unpolished jade, and there are stairs leading ahead.

The volcano rumbles again and the floor trembles. Link prays that the volcano doesn’t erupt. He’s not sure it the Goddess could save him from a lava flow.

There is a small area of stone floor at the top of the stairs, and–

_Blood._

There is patches of blood around an iron chain.

Fidelis gives a warning hum. “Hyruen,” the spirit says, chiming voice almost lost in another rumble from the volcano. “I am detecting the spirit maiden’s aura. It is highly probable she was held here for some time.”

“Is she still here?” Link asks, trying to tamp down the utter rage that threatens to overcome him when he thinks of Zelda, trapped, and held here, unable to escape. He needs to be clear-headed, not swamped by emotion.

“No. I am not sensing Zelda within the immediate area. However, her aura leads upwards. It is possible she is still nearby.”

Link heads further in, cautious and wary, anger bubbling like lava beneath his skin.

* * *

 

"Oh, it's you," Ghirahim says, his voice echoing and disdainful from where he stands, far above Link’s head, perched on an outcropping of volcanic rock like a particularly flamboyant and malevolent Loftwing, his cape stretched out behind him.   

"Let me see...no that's not it. This is so very embarrassing, but I seem to be at a loss for your name. Not that it matters, really. To tell you the truth, I'm feeling a bit frustrated, and right now I just need someone to vent to,” Ghirahim says, pacing back and forth.

 _Fidelis, is there any way to tell if he’s been near Zelda?_ Link asks.

 _He has not._ Fidelis answers. _Her aura would linger on him and I do not sense such._

Link silently thanks the Goddess for that small bit of good news.

"I heard that my underlings had finally captured the spirit maiden, so of course I rushed over here. What can I say? I was excited. Flustered, even...but what did I find when I arrived? That agent of the goddess…”

Ghirahim mumbles something that Link can’t quite hear over another rumble of the volcano.

 _Agent of the goddess?_ Link asks. _Do you think it’s the same person he mentioned in the Forest Temple? The one you couldn’t detect? Or do you think it’s the person we saw earlier?_

 _Unknown._ Comes Fidelis’s ominous answer. 

The Demon gestures angrily, flailing his arms, face enraged.

"That Goddess-serving dog had escaped with the girl! I MUST have the spirit maiden in order to resurrect my master! I MUST HAVE HER!”

Ghirahim takes a moment, breathing heavily, before flipping back his hair and continuing, “...I got a little carried away there, didn't I? I don't deal well with...complications to plans I've laid out so carefully. It's a character flaw of mine.”

Link tenses as Ghirahim looks directly at him, a grin spreading over his pallid face.

"Ah, but something good can still come from this day! I've had all this bottled-up anger smoldering inside me, and now I can release it. There's someone special I'd like you to meet.”

“I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you,” Link says.

“Oh, don't be shy! I need to vent all this unhealthy anger, and your agony is such a great stress reliever,” Ghirahim says with a giggle, “It won't take more than a few moments with my friend before you're charred to a satisfying crisp. And let me tell you, that will put a spring in my step!"

With a snap of his fingers, Ghirahim vanishes in a flash of black and gold diamonds.

There is a stillness to the air, and a boulder the size of eight Gorons squashed together plunges from the ceiling and lands with a thud that makes Link almost lose his balance before the boulder begins to roll towards him.

Link squeezes himself against the ramp’s edge, watching the boulder pass by and crash against an outcropping of rock.

It _shivers_ _._

Link stares at it. Rocks don’t _shiver_. Then it bursts into flame and one large orange eye opens in its midsection, a toothy mouth grinning just below it.

Link swears and runs for the sanctuary door that he can see over the crest of the ramp, the creature not far behind. Link glances behind him to find it has inexplicably grown _legs._

“Fantastic,” he grunts, reaching the door and finding it closed. “Shit!”

An explosion behind him and the creature makes a squeal and Link whirls in time to see it rolling back down the ramp.

Link takes a quick look around. Bomb flowers, with their bright blue bulbs and curling green vines bob cheerfully about and broken pottery shards litter the edges of the platform. Link eyes the creature, now climbing towards him again, and grabs the round flower bulb, snapping it free and watching the faint smoke beginning to curl up from it.

Bomb flowers explode twenty seconds after being plucked, so Link will need to throw it soon.

The creature is halfway up the ramp, roaring at him.

 “What in the eight hells is that thing?!” he swears, hefting the bomb and aiming it, throwing it directly at the creature’s one wide eye.

 _A fiend._ Fidelis says. _A creature of flame and dark energy._

“Lovely,” Link says, watching the creature shriek and roll back down the ramp again.

Link grabs another bulb as the fiend collides with the wall, bounces back and comes barreling towards him. He throws it at the glowing, devilish eye,  wondering how much damage it will take to kill the thing.

And _then_ it starts heaving fireballs at him.

_Just great._

Link grabs another bomb, timing his throw in between the fireballs that roar up the ramp as the fiend attempts to roast him alive.

The fiend shrieks in pain and Link darts forward to bury his sword into its eye, ignoring the heat that scorches his hands. The resulting roar almost deafens him, and he yanks the sword free and retreats.

A scream shakes the ground, trembling in the air and finally falls silent. The darkening corpse of the fiend crumbles to ashes and the only sound is the distant rumble of the volcano.

Link cleans his sword and sheathes it, hands shaking. He fumbles for the pouch at his waist, coming up with one of his healing potions, and downing it.

It tastes like strawberries, oddly enough. Link sighs, feeling the burns fade, though the scars will remain. It was a _fiend,_ after all.

* * *

 

The sweet echo of a harp reverberates through the room, and Link closes his eyes against the clarity of the memory that sweeps over him.

_“Hyruen. Do you not see the path that I’ve laid before you? Blessed and Sacred is your Destiny, my most Beloved Champion.”_

_He remembers the Goddess, standing in the spring, alight with Holy, magnificent Power. Her Radiance dazzling his eyes. The soaring sound of Her voice, clear and joyful as She brought light into the land, cleansing it of Darkness._

For a moment, it is as if he stands before Her again, listening to Her Song and faint bubbling of the Spring, in a time long since lost to the mists of history.

He opens his eyes again.

Zelda is there, standing beside the black clad figure from before. She looks unhurt, though she’s dressed in a white tunic and brown pants that she’d not had when she fell. An amulet rests around her neck, and Link can feel the holy energy even from this distance.

He wonders then how she was able to be captured. Surely the holy amulet would have been able to keep her attackers at bay…

 _Vast numbers may yet overcome such an amulet, Hyruen._ Fidelis says.

A pillar of light rises up as the last note of the harp fades away and the black-clad woman gestures towards it. As she turns, Link can see pale blonde hair tied in thin braids and red eyes, her dark hands wrapped in linen . The symbol of an orange eye is emblazoned across her back and Link recognizes it from the wards that had previously guarded the Temple sanctuary above the Seal.

 _A Sheikah._ Fidelis hums in the back of Link’s mind. _The agent that the Demon spoke of._

“Tidings of the Goddess, I bring,” Link calls, the ancient words springing to his tongue unbidden. “Protector of the Sacred Maiden, I would speak with you and your charge.”

The woman whirls with surprising speed and shoves Zelda through the pillar, who gives a cry of surprise as she vanishes into the white light. The woman then spins towards him, hefts a small orb in her hand and throws it down. Dark smoke shrouds the stairs and even the pillar of light is eclipsed in darkness.

The smoke clears moments later but both the woman and the pillar are gone.

Link curses. He’d been so _close_!

“Fidelis?” he asks, once his frustration has been pushed back. He will _not_ lose his temper in a sacred place such as this. “Can we follow them?”

 _No._ The spirit answers. _We have no way to create such portals. The Honorable Zelda carries the Goddess’s Harp, and we have only Her Sword and Shield._

“Do you think we could find out where they went then?” Link asks, walking up the stairs, finding himself on a stone dais inlaid with the pattern of the Goddess’s emblem.

Fidelis appears beside him, humming faintly. “I will examine the area,” the spirit says. “It is possible that I may determine the destination where they may have gone. It will take some time.”

Link nods. “Please, do what you can.”

Fidelis gives a low chime and settles into a seated position, floating a foot off the ground.

Link turns back to the spring. There is another statue of Hylia there, made of obsidian, gleaming and polished. Water tumbles down red stone walls, and the scent of sun-dew flowers hangs lightly in the air as the flowers bob in the pool that surrounds the statute and the dais on which Link now stands.

Link walks to the statute, kneels at its feet and bows his head.

_O Hylia, Lady of Light, please, guard and guide Zelda for I know not the dangers that lurk before her on the path._

He hears the faint grinding of stone and raises his head to see a small opening beneath the statute’s feet. Another tablet, this one with an amber gem at its edge, and as he lifts it free, he finds a set of bracers under it.

They are leather, and well-worn, but not to the point of breaking. Etched into the leather is Hylia’s crest and the symbol of the Old Gods.

Link sets the tablet aside for a moment and eases the bracers over his arms. They fit as if they were made for him.

At the edges of the bracers is lines of Hylian script, ancient but still legible.

_Wisdom brings focus, Power brings strength, Courage brings balance._

Link traces the words gently.

“I have located Zelda,” Fidelis announces, floating to Link’s side.

“Where?” Link asks, picking up the tablet again.

“Lanaryu province,” Fidelis says, “at the edge of the mining facility known as Kaldros.”

Link remembers the facility, if dimly. The army hadn’t needed to retake the province as the native Hyloids had managed to keep the bokoblins and demons at bay with their lightning powered technology, so they hadn’t stayed long.

Lanaryu was rich, verdant grasslands, with colorful flowers and bright stone architecture. It was beautiful to Hyruen’s eyes.

Link wonders what the lands are like now.

“It is possible to follow them,” Fidelis says after a moment. “We may harness the power in the tablet you now possess.”

“How?” Link asks. “Wouldn’t we need to find a way back to the temple in Skyloft?”

“Stand on the symbol of the Goddess, before Her Statute, Hyruen,” Fidelis says. “And think of Skyloft. Of the temple, of where Her Sword rested for so many years.”

Link closes his eyes, and feels a shift, wind whipping past his face, the ground shuddering beneath his feet.

“We have arrived,” Fidelis says. Link cracks open an eye and finds the familiar statue of Hylia standing above the other two tablets. He places the amber tablet with its siblings, filling the last space with a soft clunk.

Link studies the remade map, simple in its drawing of the land below. “Fidelis,” he says after a moment. “We must return to Lanaryu to follow Zelda, but how will we return if we do not have the tablets. I make the assumption we were only able to get here because we had the last tablet on hand.”

“You are correct,” Fidelis says. “Perhaps the answer will come in time.”

“I hope so,” Link says and turns his attention to other matters. “Do you know what time it is?” He cannot see the sky from here, the false sunlight pouring through the temple’s ceiling masking any trace of the outside world.

“Almost midnight,” Fidelis says. “Are you intending to travel to Lanaryu now?”

“Yes,” Link says. “The sooner we catch up with Zelda, the better.”

“I would suggest gathering thicker clothes,” Fidelis says. “The nights in Lanaryu are colder than in Skyloft.”

Link nods and quickly retrieves the thickest cloak he owns, a heavy thing made of thick wool and a few more articles of clothing. He leaves the academy with no one the wiser to his coming and going.

Link easily creeps past the guard patrols. There is hardly a moon tonight, shedding very little light, but Link knows the streets and pathways like the back of his hand. There were nights far darker than this, he remembers, when his soldiers had formed ambushes for the demons, creeping lightly armored through thick mists with spears in hand.

His Loftwing is glad to see him, if only for a few minutes as they fly low, towards the new portal opened in the cloud layer.

Link swings off his Loftwing’s back and plummets through the clouds. He lands atop some kind of metal structure that clangs beneath his boots.

It’s a little difficult to find a way down, but with Fidelis providing light, Link manages it. He pauses at the base of the structure to dig through his pack for flint and makes a crude torch that flares to life in minutes.

The earth is dry and dusty, and it is surprisingly cold. Link is glad now for the cloak that he pulls tighter about him as he moves forwards down a path that is hard and compact from years of feet treading its surface.

It takes nearly an hour to navigate the path and the darkened mining facility it winds through. Link looks at the long-rusted metal walls and carts and feels an ancient sorrow fill him for he remembers the mines alive with activity and the loud clang of pickaxes and the roaring of furnaces.

Now, there is only still silence and a whistling wind that echoes through the empty places.

His torch illuminates high plateaus turned pale in the torchlight as he leaves the mine behind.

The wind whistles past him and in the light of the dim moon, he can see nothing but desert, rolling dunes and shifting sands.

The jungles, the vibrant life that once held sway over the vast plains, the towering stone buildings, and lively Hyloids—is _gone_ , ground into dust by the passing centuries and no one left to mourn its loss.

No one save Link and Hylia Herself remember the land as it was. And _that_ Link thinks is the worst of all.


End file.
